Beautiful Dreamer
by northstar333
Summary: RinSess.AU. Based loosely upon Beauty&Beast.Rin's family lives in poverty, but a rumor tells that the family fortunes might be changing for the better. Rin's father sets out to find the truth and offers to br


Standard Disclaimer: Don't own anything Inuyasha, or Disney

AN: I wanted to try my hand at writing a fairytale, and Beauty and the Beast has always been one of my favorites. I can't remember where I read the version that inspired this story, but I do know that it was one of the older, less "Disney-tized" ones. Sesshoumaru and Rin are one of my favorite couples, and with Rin's affinity to flowers, it seemed to work well. This is a story I am writing for fun, so I hope you enjoy it too.

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Ch 1 The Rose

_Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived the merchant Takeo and his three beautiful daughters. Akemi, the eldest, was rumored to be as fair as day, with hair the color of sunshine and eyes the color of a summer sky. Noriko, the second, was rumored to be as dark as night, with hair the color of ebony and eyes the color of midnight. Rin, the youngest, was beautiful only by ordinary standards._

_Now this merchant made his living by buying goods and shipping them overseas to be sold in foreign lands. A stroke of ill fortune fell upon the merchant, and ship after ship was lost at sea. The merchant watched helplessly as his riches dwindled until he and his daughters were dressed in rags. The first daughter and the second daughter, having been pampered all their young lives, turned up their noses at hard work and sat listlessly, bemoaning their fate. But the youngest, being possessed of a sweetness of spirit, cleaned and cooked and gardened without complaint. And she was her father's favorite, for she always had a smile and something to eat waiting for him when he returned from a weary day of looking for work._

_It came to pass that word reached the merchant that one of his ships had been sighted off shore. That night, the family celebrated this sign of good fortune. The next morning, Takeo said good bye to each of his daughters and set out to reclaim that which was his._

Rin stood to the side, watching her elder sisters tearfully kiss their father's wrinkled cheeks. She was startlingly dry eyed, but her calm and serene look belied the tears she had cried into her pillow that morn. Had it just been her and her father, she might have cried anyways, despite her best efforts not to trouble him with her tears, but with her sisters in attendance, she fell into the familiar role of caretaker.

She must show a brave face so that her father wouldn't fret while he was away. She worried about his health and the length of the trip he was undertaking, but her father had waved aside all of her concern with a jovial laugh. Rin hadn't heard him laugh like that since their mother died, and she couldn't find it in her heart to protest further. It was obvious to her that this trip had buoyed her father's hopes, restoring to him a bit of his old pride.

And so when Takeo turned to her, she smiled her brilliant smile and hugged him fiercely.

"I love you, father," Rin told him sincerely. "I'll miss you."

"We'll all miss you," Akemi amended quickly, her blue eyes shinning with dramatic tears.

"Yes," Noriko chimed in agreement, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Takeo looked from face to face. "Now children!" he chided. "This is a happy occasion! We shall be rich again! Come, tell me, what you would like me to bring back for you?"

Immediately Akemi's and Noriko's watery pouts turned into smiles that outshone the moon and the sun combined. Rin watched their eyes light with enthusiasm for the first time in forever and smiled herself, enjoying their happiness.

"A silk kimono!" Noriko said without hesitation.

"A jeweled fan!" Akemi added after a moment's contemplation.

Takeo nodded with good humor. "And what for you, poppet?" he queried Rin cheerfully.

Rin blinked in momentary confusion, taken aback by the question. She hadn't expected to be asked.

"A flower," she blurted.

"Just a flower!" Takeo asked with an edge of surprise to his voice. "Nothing else?"

Behind him, Akemi made a derogatory sound and Noriko snickered. Ignoring her sisters, Rin bobbed her head in affirmation.

"Please?" she asked sweetly.

Takeo laughed. "Of course, my dear. You shall have your flower."

He kissed each of his daughters once more and cautioned them to take care of each other. He set off down the road away from their cottage, and Rin watched him go until she could no longer see him over the next rise. She wiped away a couple stray tears and turned to follow her sisters inside. She attacked her work with a vengeance, determined to have it all done for when her father returned.

"What do you mean the Nantuko never docked!" Takeo roared with a hint of panic.

The urchin boy whom had told Takeo of the missing ship cowered under Takeo's raised hand. One of the passing sailors, a gruff old man of indeterminable years, laid a restraining hand on Takeo's shoulder.

"Hey, now," the sailor barked warningly, obviously intent on preventing Takeo from harming the lad.

Takeo wrenched his shoulder from the sailor's grip. In his right mind he never would have raised his hand to a child, but shock, distress, and despair turned his anger into something ugly, something unfamiliar. Just as instantaneously as his anger flared, it evaporated, leaving Takeo feeling empty and desolate.

With shame he turned his face away from the lad and the sailor and shuffled his way back into the heart of the town. The dying sun painted the harbor town in tones of orange and tangerine, casting deep shadows into the narrow alleyways as the more unsavory characters stirred, awaiting the coming of night to ply their various trades.

No one bothered Takeo as he heavily trudged his way back to the outer road that lead home. Pickpockets, strumpets, and thugs alike noted the shabby state of his clothes, the frailty of his walk, and looked elsewhere for more promising prey.

On Takeo trudged, the fickle light of the first quarter moon partially lighting his steps. The sharpness of the rocks in the road bruised his feet through the thinning soles of his shoes and the deep ruts in the dirt road threatened to trip him more than once.

He had intended to stay in one of the finer hotels, to enjoy his old vices for one night before he returned to his girls. In the morning, he would have bought the finest kimono, the finest jeweled fan, and the rarest, most beautiful flower to be had. He should be riding in luxury, not sneaking home like an errant husband.

The more Takeo bemoaned his fate, the more tired he felt. At last, exhausted, he sat himself down upon a stump by the road. Setting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his aching head into the cradle of his hands.

A strange fog stole around his feet, mingling playful tendrils around his ankles as the thick ground cloud obscured all view of the road.

Something of the eerie, magical property of the fog must of communicated itself to Takeo, for he lifted his head with a start, his eyes growing round as saucers as he beheld the beautiful mansion before him.

A tall, dark leaved hedge encircled the entire compound, and in the moonlight, Takeo gasped at the wicked gleam of the dagger-like thorns. He could tell some kind of flower peeked out from behind the guarding weapons, but the foggy moonlight was too weak to make out the color or dimension of the blossoms.

In the center of the hedge, a massive wooden gate rose out of the fog's concealment. The red paint was reduced to a sullen maroon in the light, but the gold gild glinted impressively in the dark. As silent as death, the doors of the gate swung open, daring him to enter, commanding it.

Like one entranced Takeo rose and walked towards them. He stepped one foot past the entrance and instantly a thin, high voice yelled at him to halt.

"Who are you!" the voice asked imperiously.

"Takeo the merchant," Takeo called back fearfully. Awaken from his daze; he was shocked and scared to find himself standing within the swinging range of both doors. Should his unknown host decide, he could easily kill Takeo just by closing the gates.

"Ha! Human I bet. A poor, disgusting human at that!" the voice taunted.

There was the sound of a solid _thunk_, and the first speaker gave a low grunt. For a second, Takeo feared that the gate really was going to close. Then a kind, time worn, womanly voice sounded out of the darkness.

"Are you lost, kind sir?" his unknown benefactor asked.

"No," Takeo replied, his fear easing. "Home is just up the road…" he started, then glanced around and realized that the road was no where to be seen. His panic began to rise, but he was effectively distracted by the matronly hand that was patting his own.

He turned back to find an old woman standing beside him. She stood straight despite her years, and she exuded a sense of confidence and competence that came with the wisdom of old age. Her dark eyes still were sharp and piercing and her dove grey hair was swept back into a no nonsense braid down her back. She stood patiently through Takeo's inspection, intuitively knowing that her appearance did a great deal to ease his distress.

"I am Kaede, caretaker of all you see around you," she explained as she led him into the courtyard of the compound. "That," she gestured at an unconscious, wrinkled little green creature, "Is Jaken."

She lead him free of the gate's swinging doors, then released his hand.

"You're welcome to stay the night," she continued. Her pleasant expression darkened suddenly. "But I must warn you; this is a magical place. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, you must say nothing about it. Ask no questions. Leave with nothing more than you came with. And be gone from here before sunrise."

Takeo's delight at finding a place the stay the night was considerably dampened, but he was exhausted, he could not go on. He nodded his assent with a sinking heart.

Whether too tired to care, or whether it was too dark to really see, Takeo followed his hostess into the main house, the regal, majestic glory of the building lost on the weary traveler.

Of his time spent within the gates of that magical place, Takeo remembered only impressions. He remembered Kaede serving him a filling and delicious meal. He remembered the slightly musty smell of the pillow, of the blankets. He remembered Kaede shaking him awake, vaguely remembered her bustling him outside, handing him his pack, and seeing him back to the stump, where she told him to stay until dawn.

"Under no circumstances are you to leave the stump," she had cautioned him. "Wait until the sun is well above the horizon and all the mist is gone. The road will once again appear and this place will be no more." Her last words echoed through his sleep clogged mind as he shifted his sitting position upon the stump. Guiltily, with no little wonder, he turned back and gazed upon the enormous gate and its imposing hedge. In the awakening sunlight, the gold blazed and the red flared. The flowers that he hadn't been able to make out the previous night glowed with a splendor all their own.

Roses. Of the deepest and truest crimson red. Blossoms more fragrant and beautiful than Takeo had ever seen. The sunlight danced naughtily over every perfect scarlet petal, as if knowing it didn't belong there, yet so tempting were the roses that it could not resist.

The sight bedazzled Takeo, and unwittingly he rose and wandered over to examine them up close. Their scent was like beautiful poison; addictive, seductive. Their beauty was dazzling and forbidden.

Suddenly Takeo remembered the request of his youngest, his favorite daughter. Sweet Rin, who had asked only for a flower. He remembered how she had taken up the housekeeping without complaint, even when her soft lady's hands became callused and rough as a fish wife's.

Takeo eyed the roses. The old woman had said to take nothing, but surely the roses didn't count. What harm could there be in taking one from among thousands? With new resolve, Takeo reached for one of the flowers. Even when the thorns cut into his flesh and drew blood, he persisted. Finally, he closed his fingers about one rose's stem. With a movement of his thumb and finger he snapped off the flower and drew it out of its protective thorns. He twirled it between his fingers, awed by its extravagant beauty.

Suddenly the ground beneath his feet shook with the force of a thunderous growl and the clean, golden line of dawn was obscured by an ominous billow of dark, smoky fog. Takeo threw himself to the ground and curled up in fright, the rose still in his hand. The ground continued to rumble and heave with furious abandonment. A sharp, swift wind picked up and the hedge began to howl with the most dreadful sound, like a young child's keening sorrow. It shivered and trembled as if it was alive and a thick, black ichor welled from the branch where he had broken off the rose.

The rose within his hand began to rustle its leaves, to sigh and moan softly in time with its brethren. Takeo looked down at it in horror, muttering to himself as he flung it away from him. It landed some distance away from him, with a small, pathetic _oomph_, at the feet of a tall, imposing silhouette. One pale, graceful, clawed hand encircled the rose's stem as the stranger bent down. It-his movement was almost reverent, almost delicate, as the stranger handled the rose the same way one would handle a glass figurine. Yet, that hand shook with a fine tremor, as if shaken by some insuppressible emotion.

As soon as the stranger's fingers closed about stem, the rose and its brethren fell silent with one collective sigh.

"_Why?"_ the stranger asked with a silken tone that slipped like a stiletto between Takeo's ribs, straight through his heart. _"I allowed you to eat from my table, to sleep under my roof! This is how you repay me!"_

Takeo gasped, began to sob; was reduced to a blubbering idiot by sheer terror at the razor thin streak of malicious, terrible hatred that underscored the stranger's smooth, refined tenor.

"I just want-ed…one….for my daughter," he blurted between stuttered breaths.

"You have a daughter?" the stranger asked, and the strength of the unspoken, deadly intent behind his polite, cultured words subsided behind a thin veil of steely control.

"Y-yes," Takeo stuttered. He began to lift his head.

"_Do not!"_ the stranger instantly hissed and Takeo obeyed instinctively. He froze, trembling with terror, waiting for the stranger to slay him. He could feel the weight of the stranger's assessing gaze upon his unprotected back.

"Tell me, thief, why I should let you live," the stranger drawled, dark amusement tainting his voice.

"Please, please, please," Takeo begged shamelessly. "I have three children-daughters!-who need me!"

"Very well," the stranger acceded. "I will spare your life. I will even restore your wealth unto you. Everything you had and more will be yours. Your family will never want for anything. All I ask in return is for one of your daughters to willingly take your place."

"But-" Takeo moaned in agony. "To condemn one of my beautiful daughters to such a fate! I cannot!"

"I promise no harm will come to your daughter by my hand. _I give you my word_," the stranger swore, his last words ringing with forceful truth.

"What will happen to her?" Takeo asked fearfully, his own terror momentarily forgotten as he considered the terrible fate awaiting his child.

"I grow tired of your protests. _Do you wish to live?"_ the stranger asked impatiently, the blankness of his tone an indication of his growing boredom.

"Yes!" Takeo burst out immediately.

"Then rise, and see the face of your benefactor," the stranger commanded. There was such sardonic ire, such dark, self mocking humor in his tone that Takeo feared to look.

Reluctantly, hesitantly, Takeo lifted his eyes to look upon the most hideous mask he had ever seen. Like something from a theatre, like something right out of a sadist's nightmare, the mask was grotesque, a parody of a perverse imp's mocking grimace. Made of stained wood, the mask was a dull maroon in color, with eye holes and a thin, curving slot for the mouth. No ties nor ribbons held the mask on, yet it stayed fast, held by magical force.

"D-d-d-d-d-d-demon!" Takeo screeched as he back-peddled, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on his backside.

Tawny eyes flashed behind the mask and a growl, below audible sound, began to trickle from the stranger's throat. _"Yes,"_ the stranger ground out. _"Now. Go."_

Takeo picked himself up and took off, blindly charging away from the demon.

"_Wait,"_ the stranger ordered.

As if suddenly rooted to the spot, Takeo couldn't move. Slowly, yet helpless not to do so, he looked at the demon.

The stranger held out the beautiful, red, red rose. "This is yours," he stated.

Takeo eyed the rose with fearful loathing. He wanted _nothing_ more to do with the flower. Yet, his fate was already sealed, what was done was done. With the very tips of his fingers, he yanked it from the stranger's grasp and held it gingerly out in front of him. Immediately the rose began to keen again. The hedge remained silent, but it was a sullen silence, as if it glared at him with accusing eyes.

"I will expect your daughter, here, at the next first quarter moon," the stranger spoke, his voice leaving no room for argument. He turned with a very correct, very graceful movement and vanished back into the mist. Instantly the gloom of the fog lifted, and the first, determined rays of the rising sun glittered through. Within a couple blinks of Takeo's eyes, the gates, the roses, the stranger, were gone. The sun shone, the road stretched towards the horizon in both directions, as if the mansion had never been; except for the lonesome, softly keening rose in his hand.

Looking down at it, Takeo felt quiet despair settle into his soul. With heavy feet and a heavier heart, he trudged home.

The first package arrived that morning. Soon, others followed, until the floor space of their little cottage was overflowing. And yet, still, more and more gifts flooded in.

Akemi and Noriko tore through the mountains of stuff, exclaiming over each new discovery, then discarding it in favor of something more beautiful, something flashier, something more expensive.

Rin watched with growing dismay as her sisters carelessly trod on expensive fabrics, haphazardly tossed aside fine china, and greedily bedecked themselves with heavy gold jewelry.

"But, surely there's been some mistake!" Rin protested intelligently.

"Of course not!" Akemi chastised her little sister.

"Come on! Join in!" Noriko urged. "There's soooooooo much beautiful stuff!"

"No!" Rin shot back. "This stuff isn't ours! We need to send it back-"

"Send it back? Send it back!" Akemi yelled, her temper rising. "Never! It's ours! All ours! Father found his ship and sent all this stuff ahead! Of course he will have to remain in town to finish up his business, but he'll be back, you'll see! Then we'll be able to move into our real house, and hire servants, _good_ servants who know what they're doing!"

Rin felt her own temper stir at her sister's implication that her work wasn't up to par. Her sister continued to ramble unaware that she had sparked Rin's usually quiet temper.

"And then, oh Noriko! We can appear at social gatherings again! We can see our old friends! Of course, Rin will need private tutoring before she can come with us, seeing a she's become so comfortable with common living, but there's enough here to turn even our little flower girl into a lady!"

Rin felt her temper flare, felt it bubble up and over her restraint like boiling steam. These past months, she had said nothing, asked nothing of them. While she cleaned, they pined. While she cooked, they wandered in the sunshine. While she was up with dawn, they lie abed, loath to start the day. Their whining didn't trouble her. Their slothfulness never raised her ire. She loved them and wanted them to be happy, but to learn that they were _ashamed_ to be seen with her was too much. Like quicksilver, her mood changed.

"So I'm not _fit_ to be seen with you?" she asked with false mildness, interrupting her sister. "You who sit longing for a past you cannot have instead of living the life you have now? You whose friends deserted you as soon as you stopped being rich? You who cannot even take care of yourself! Much better to be a flower girl, I think, than a lady who cannot even dress herself!"

Rin shook her head, trying to control her anger. Into that pause stepped their father, and Rin was grateful for his arrival, both as a distraction from her anger, and as someone else to help her sort out this mess.

She started to run to him, as his sisters were doing, but one glance at his face was enough to halt her in her tracks. He looked as if he had aged ten years. His face looked haggard and his hair appeared grayer in the late afternoon light. Worry creased his forehead, and his mouth was turned down into an unhappy frown. He greeted Akemi and Noriko with false cheer, and his face almost immediately returned to his forlorn expression.

His somberness communicated itself even through their enthusiasm, and it was Noriko who asked, "What's wrong, Father?"

Takeo looked long and hard at each of his daughters, his gaze lingering longest on Rin.

"Gather round children," he told them as he settled himself into an empty, straight back chair. "I'm afraid I have a sad story to tell."

The wailing rose still clutched in his hand, he told his daughters all that had transpired, the soft moaning of the flower punctuating his grim statements. As one they sat wide eyed and silent, absorbing their father's words. As he at last fell silent, they all three began to talk at once, asking questions, protesting, and exclaiming in disbelief.

"What I say is true!" Takeo insisted. "By the wealth that surrounds us, by the rose in my hand, I have told you the truth."

"But, to go to a hideous demon! Oh Father, _please_, don't make me go!" Akemi exclaimed in fearful horror.

"Please, please don't ask me to!" Noriko wailed.

"I'll go," Rin said quietly into the pause after her sisters' outbursts.

"Yes!" Akemi seized. "It's her fault anyways! If she hadn't asked for the rose, this never would have happened."

"She should go, she wants to go," Noriko supported her sister.

"_No,"_ Takeo said with a severity that took all three girls aback. "Rin, you are all I have left of your mother. I forbid you to go. Now, there will be no more discussing who will go. I will go. Surely, somehow, I can talk the demon into wanting something else."

"But Father-" Rin protested.

"No," Takeo held firm. "I mean it. None of you will go. Now, no more frowns! We are rich again! Come help me open the rest of these gifts!"

Akemi's and Noriko's fright faded at the sight of all the riches before them. Flippantly they turned to ripping apart the rest of the stockpile.

Rin, however, held back and stayed by her father's side.

"Won't you let me go?" she asked pleadingly. "The demon will kill you if you go back!"

"No," Takeo replied staunchly. "I could never live with myself knowing any of you, especially you, my little girl, were at the mercy of that monster."

"But, he said he wouldn't hurt us," Rin protested futilely.

"He said that you wouldn't come to harm by his hand. There are still plenty of ways for him to arrange for you to die. No, it's too dangerous."

"But-" Rin tried one last time.

"No," Takeo snapped, and his glare quelled Rin's further protests.

The rose, having endured the journey with only a soft sighing and moaning, suddenly chose that moment to let forth a wrenching sob. A frustrated Rin and an irate Takeo looked down at the rose.

"This is yours," Takeo said at last and offered Rin the rose.

"I don't want it," Rin admitted softly. "It's what caused this terrible mess."

The rose hiccupped, sobbed some more, and began to wail like an infant.

"_Please_ take it," Takeo implored her. "It hasn't been silent since the moment I plucked it. You have a way with plants; maybe you can get it to shut up."

Rin eyed the rose with distrust, but reached for it anyways. As soon as her fingers touched the stem and her father let go, the rose gave a startling chirrup, like a baby's coo. It rustled its leaves once more like a bird settling its feathers, and then became silent and still. Bewildered, bemused, Rin examined the rare and beautiful rose.

Noriko, having turned her attention that way at the rose's sound, waded over to look at it more closely. She saw that it was, indeed, beautiful, and suddenly desired it for herself.

"Can I hold it?" she asked sweetly.

Rin surrendered the flower, but as soon as it left her hand, it began to shriek in high pitched protest. Noriko, startled by the sudden noise, dropped the flower. Rin immediately reached for it, her fingers gently wrapping around the stem. The rose gave one annoying, high pitched yip then fell silent again. Or maybe, not quite quiet. Rin put her ear close to the rose and heard a soft, breathy noise, almost like the sound inside a sea shell, but this almost had a melody to it, almost sounded like someone humming. It had a happy, contented sound to it.

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